The Oceans Between Us by Gill Thompson

Author:Gill Thompson [Thompson, Gill]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781472257949
Publisher: Headline
Published: 2019-03-20T13:00:00+00:00

23

When John came in that night, Jack was at the dining room table doing his homework and Kathleen was standing by the stove in the kitchen, stirring something in a saucepan. Condensation fogged the windows and a strong smell permeated the room. Not unpleasant, but not particularly appetising either.

‘Evening, sport.’

Jack looked up from a copy of Hamlet. ‘Hello.’

‘Dinner won’t be long,’ said Kathleen.

‘Great, I’ll have a quick drink first.’ John opened the huge cream refrigerator and pulled out a Swan beer. Kathleen silently passed him a bottle opener and a glass.

He waved the glass away. ‘Real men don’t use glasses,’ he said, winking at Jack, who smiled obligingly back. They’d got on better recently. After that awful business with his friend, Jack had withdrawn into himself even more. John suspected he thought about the lad a lot. Perhaps the poor kid even blamed himself. But lately he’d come out of his shell a bit. Kathleen was good at calming him down. Maybe Jack had finally accepted them as his mum and dad.

John went onto the veranda to savour his drink until the meal was ready. He needed to contemplate how he was going to break the news to Kathleen. Best to bide his time until the moment was right.

It was cooler outside. He stood by the wooden rail, dimly aware of the Carter children playing next door. Nearby, sandgrinders buzzed in the parrot bushes, their distinctive voices rising to a crescendo then dying away. John shifted his gaze and was shocked by how overgrown the lawn was. Kathleen had been neglecting the garden recently. Probably too busy with Jack. Maybe he’d mow it at the weekend.

The minister had phoned earlier. They hadn’t spoken for a while. He’d been surprised that day John had told him they’d taken on Jack permanently. Grown a bit tetchy too at the implied criticism of Bindoon. But now he was keen as mustard with a new plan. John hadn’t liked it at first, but the minister had talked him round. John just hoped he’d persuade Kathleen that easily. A few more brownie points with the minister wouldn’t go amiss.

He put the mouth of the bottle to his lips and drank, then tilted his head to catch the evening sun.

Ten minutes later, Kathleen placed three bowls of soup on the table.

John took up his spoon and scooped up some glutinous liquid containing lumps of unidentifiable origin. ‘What’s this, Kath?’

‘Pumpkin soup,’ was the prompt reply.

Jack ate his obediently, but John took one mouthful then spat it straight out.

‘Stone the crows, woman. What are those lumps?’

Kathleen sniffed. ‘Pearl barley. We’ve been told to use up reserve stock.’

‘Over my dead body.’ John snatched up his bowl and marched with it into the kitchen. He deposited it in the sink with a clatter.

‘Don’t waste good food, John.’

‘I’m not eating that muck,’ John replied. ‘Growing boys need meat.’ He winked at Jack again. This was playing into his hands. ‘I think you need some help, Kath. You’ve a lot to do, looking after Jack and me as well as the house.

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